Chapter 3

Madge, you're the first person I'm telling this to, but what Dr. Teague told all four of our guys was what I had asked her to tell them. We decided fairly early on that our husbands needed a full feminine experience in order to respect us properly. All of it. They'd made fun of how we think, and dress, and talk, and behave, and also what kinds of noises we make when we're getting laid by a stiff prick. So it's only fair they should find out for themselves what kinds of noises they'd make when they're getting laid by a stiff prick.

It's true that Tommy didn't need to be encouraged into a full feminine experience, including sex with a man. Fairly early on it looked like he had to be peeled off any man who'd let him come close. But our other guys, I don't know, they were a little shy about getting intimate with a man. I knew they would be. They spend all that time horsing around, and punching each other's shoulders, and maybe like me they'd rather be feeling up some guy's buns, but they repress it. It's that competition thing again. They think it's manly to fuck but it isn't manly to get fucked. Even though there never has been one without the other. As if one was winning and one was losing.

Think about it, Madge. It's only sex with a man. We all do it all the time, you know, or we wish we could, some of us. Nothing more common! Every woman does it. But our big strong brave men, the very idea of it spooks them. Just suggest it and they get crazy angry, and they tense up, and you can't reason with them any more. I knew it would be that way the first night I thought of the plan, that Super Bowl Sunday. That's why right off I thought about the commencement ritual we'd have to have, when we got our guys together for the first time since we transformed them, and gave them a chance to get to know each other all over again. And to be initiated into full womanhood together. That's what we wanted for them.

And that's what we gave them, Beth and Lorie, and Helene and me. Here's how. Remember that none of them knew that any of the others had been feminized. Charlie knew that I knew about him, but Lorie assured him I'd never tell Bill, and of course I didn't. They each think they've just barely been saved from this virus by their body's hiding out from its own masculinity somehow, suppressing its testosterone, looking feminine. I know, it sounds a little crazy, but we've been shoving tranquillizers up their asses every day for six months, so even if it still sounds crazy they never questioned it. They're a little zonked, remember, Madge! They're thinking the way they think we think, like women, right? Sure it's funny. At this point they believe they're still at risk, for five more months, and to reduce this risk they need to get laid. Sure, but what do you expect? From a man? They're scared!

Well, we decide we'll hold the commencement as the final meeting of our Tuesday night group, because after that there won't be any reason to meet in secret any more, and that'll be the big moment we've all been working toward. At my house because I've got the biggest living room. We get each of our men ready. Remember how they thought we were all so silly, going around all trussed up in girdles? Well, now, each one of them has a corset, and we make sure the laces are tight, so each corset is nearly rigid, and each of them has a wasp waist and spread out hips and real breasts pushed up into the cups. Bill's are an honest C cup with no padding now. They look so sweet sometimes. I love to kiss them. That's right, Madge, he can't go without at all any more, or they sag down and hurt. Well, they're all wearing their nicest dresses, and are beautifully made up. Bill knew there was something special happening but didn't know what, so he went to the beauty parlor for a hairdo and makeover. I tell Bill no panties, maybe we'll want to paddle his bottom, who can tell, and no butt plug for the same reason. The other girls tell their men the same thing.

So, anyhow, Bill's sitting in the living room, waiting for the first arrivals, and I go into the kitchen, supposedly to fix up snacks or something. The doorbell rings, and in comes Lorie with Charlie, very quietly, and she motions Charlie to go in the living room and then joins me in the kitchen. Well, Charlie goes. The two men check each other over and each sees a strange woman, so they nod and smile politely, and Bill returns to his "Cosmo" and Charlie picks up a "Vanity Fair." It's so funny -- Lorie and I can see from the pass-through in the kitchen that they are reading the ads much more closely than the articles, the same way all women do. Same thing when Beth comes in with Joe, and Helene with Tommy. Now there are four women in the kitchen, grinning and whispering excitedly, and four men who each think the others are women in the living room making brief polite remarks and mainly trying to ignore each other, sitting and waiting. Oh yes, and four men from the Gay-Bi Athletic Club, two of them trainers in terrific shape, and two others long-time regulars in the Nautilus program, sitting in a car parked across the street, making jokes and waiting for the signal.

Well, when everything looks right, I signal and then I call out "Bill, where'd you put the wine?" and Lorie follows with "Charlie your lipstick's smudged!" Without thinking Bill calls back to me in his new voice "In the pantry, dear," and returns to his magazine. Charlie pulls a mirror out of his purse, checks his face, and starts to repair an imaginary imperfection with his lipstick. The other two ladies stare at both of them.

"Bill? Did she say your name is Bill? And you're Charlie?" says Tommy in his Minnie Mouse squeal.

Joe picks up on it quickly, an experienced transvestite accustomed to seeing other men in drag, and just as Bill is looking at each of the others in turn, all confused, with his mouth and eyes wide open, Joe says, "Well, I'll be damned! Here we are again! All four! What have those women done?"

Charlie just stares around a little wildly, his lipstick still in his hand. "What?" he says. "Who are you?" But he already knows.

There's a brief pause while the boys recognize each other, then recover themselves, and then recover from their embarrassment at being seen, and then from their realization they're all in the same boat, and then recover their sense of humor. "So we've all had this same disease, this virus, and we were all too ashamed to admit it all these months," says my Bill. I could kiss him! He's so wrongheaded! He leaps to the wrong conclusion and leads the rest of them there, that they've all been fighting the virus. Then even Joe abandons his correct line of inquiry, that we women connived together and did it all.

So they all feel this enormous relief and begin talking at once. Charlie tells Joe he's wearing a gorgeous tunic, is it silk? and Bill admires Tom's leather miniskirt -- "I wish I had the courage to wear a skirt that short," he says. "It's really precious! Where did you get it?" And then they all begin talking at once, and we're listening, and each of us is hearing the kinds of exaggerated comments they had once told each other was dumb. I guess they no longer thought so. It's amusing, and cute, and really loveable, you know? They were really enjoying themselves making girl talk in those lovely voices. We wives are grinning and feeling so warm about everything we've been doing. Our husbands are so much... well... nicer now. You know? Then we decide, time to move on.

So we march in together in a row, one behind the other, and sit down in four chairs that happen to be lined up across the room from the chairs they've settled into. We look like a tribunal, or whatever the four of us would be called if we were sitting in judgement of them, which in a way we were. "Ladies!" I call out. "Ladies, please!"

They look up at us, and smile, and the gibble-gabble gradually quiets down, until finally they're just looking at us, expectantly. We're all here for a reason, they know, but they don't know what it is yet.

"Ladies," I say to them, "Let's get to it. You have each of you been making some difficult adjustments during the past half-dozen months, and you've all four survived them, and you're still here with us, and we're all of us grateful for that." The other wives beamed at them. "There are more adjustments to come, of a different kind, but tonight we reach a threshold, and we want to help you cross it, each of us. So we've arranged a kind of ceremony. I assure you, after it, you will not be quite the person you are now. You do have our best wishes for what you are about to become. Please, now, each of you, kneel down here a few feet from your wife, in front of her."

Well, Madge, they were still guys, no matter how beautifully coiffed and dressed. They glanced over at each other with half-smiles. It was clear to them that there would be some fairly heavy pussy smooching coming up. So they got up and knelt down elegantly. All of them were wearing stockings, and heels, so the kneeling wasn't easy. But we have a soft carpet,

"Now if you will bend way forward, each of you, chin to the floor, bottom to the heavens."

They do that. Behind them, unheard and unseen, the Athletic Club jocks enter the room barefoot, naked from the waist down, and line up behind each of our husbands. Three of them already had erections, and the fourth was pulling on his dong until it hardened and then stood out even while we watched. I must say, they were all the biggest pricks I had ever seen, but then up to that moment I 'd only seen Bill's, and a few half-hidden ones in college. I was glad for Bill that his butt plug had expanded his anus, that it was now as elastic and loose as a vagina after childbirth. One stud tossed another a tube of KY, and in a moment they're all slathered. The boys may not even feel anything slip into them, I think. But then I think, No. They'll feel those pricks all right!

"Ladies," I say. "This is very important. Listen to this instruction closely. No matter what happens now, you must keep looking at your wife until we tell you otherwise. She wants to see your face the whole time. She wants you to see her face the whole time. No matter what happens. Is that clear? No looking back. No changing your position."

I wait a moment for my words to sink in. They are now each looking up at their wives. The position is awkward, so they now look a little mournful. The studs behind them are grinning. I nod at them, and they advance on our husbands, bend over behind them, and then at a signal from the one on the left they place their hands on our husbands' hips, lunge forward, and bury their meat all the way into our husbands' rumps. Then they pause. Our four men are impaled by four other men.

The expressions we see are priceless. Bill is shocked and amazed. I look at him amused. I'm sure the other wives are feeling delight, contempt, concern, vengeful glee, I can't begin to guess. I'm too fascinated watching Bill.

"Ladies, welcome to full womanhood. We all hope you enjoy it," I say. Now it's up to the Athletic Club.

They start stroking in and out, and Bill's face keeps staring at me, reproachfully. Then I notice his eyes begin to glaze over, and his beautiful rump begins to pump up and down, very slightly at first, then more and more. I glance at the other men. Tommy's eyes are closed, and a beatific smile lights up his whole face while he pushes back sinuously against the man fucking him. Obviously when he was been disappearing in the mall for a half hour at a time with men he'd picked up, it hadn't been just to suck cock. Charlie looks worried. Joe looks as if he'd just had a pleasant revelation, and is thinking it over. I look back at Bill, and though he's still facing me, it's obvious his attention is now altogether elsewhere. He has a pleased smile, and his ass is now pumping strenuously into his partner.

And it happened. As Bill's stud gets closer to coming he changes into a rhythm of long easy strokes each seated deeply into Bill's cockpit before he eases off and starts to pull back, slowly, all the way, and then forward to seat into the hilt again. Bill starts to moan. Then as the pace picks up, each time his lover pushes in all the way he calls out "Ooohhhh!" louder, in a tone of longing and regret, each time faster and faster. When his man finally comes into him with a mighty push, Bill in a frenzy pushes back hard and deep, and when cum starts throbbing into his bowels Bill can't contain himself. Out comes high pitched shrieks, one after another. The other boys are shrieking too by now, and Beth, sitting next to me, is laughing uproariously. "Like feeding time at the zoo!" she can barely choke out at me, and then collapses into her chair again in stitches.

Eventually the Athletic Club finishes, and each man pulls out of each of our men with a "Plop!" sound. They've left a fair amount of cum behind, I'd guess. The leader looks at me again, waiting for the next signal. "Now Ladies," I say, trying hard not to join in with Beth, who is still laughing out of control, "Turn over on your backs, and lie flat, and feel free to do whatever comes into your heads except get up."

They do that. The studs straddle our husbands' torsos, knees wedged into their armpits, leaning slightly forward, balls are hanging over our husband's chins, their shiny, slick, wet pricks, still partially swollen, hanging directly over each prettily lipsticked mouth. One by one the boys lift their heads and lick the cocks hanging over them, then start sucking on them. Bill is no exception. Then as each cock grows hard again, ready again at different times, each stud changes position. Tommy is sucking away at his man's cock so vigorously I doubt there's any way he will get fucked in the ass a second time. Joe fucks his stud from in front with his legs held high, draped on the muscleman's shoulders. Charlie has his legs wrapped around his stud's waist. Amazed, I see Charlie tighten his arms around his lover's neck and kiss him passionately while his asshole is being reamed. I remember that Dr. Teague has told our men that this is the way to assure they'll survive the virus, and I imagine Charlie is grateful for what the man is doing to him. But his gratitude seems excessive. I suspect that now he's into it, that just like any other woman, he loves getting fucked.